


I Think About The Day We'd Win

by rose_coloured



Series: 24 Days of Les Mis Christmas [19]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Angst, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, I AM SORRY, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-19
Updated: 2017-12-19
Packaged: 2019-02-17 04:31:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13069194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rose_coloured/pseuds/rose_coloured
Summary: Ever since this one day in June Enjolras is restless. Dreams are haunting him, figures in red and black that he can't place. Christmas with his family is the final push and for the first time in his life, he believes that maybe it all is hopeless.





	I Think About The Day We'd Win

The sight in front of his eyes went blurry and Enjolras had to take a deep breath. He hadn’t slept much last night. Maybe three hours. It hadn’t been enough. But well it hadn’t been enough for months.  
Since the day in early summer when a protest had gone wrong, nightmares had been haunting him.  
They weren’t very detailed, he didn’t even see much. All he could usually remember was the feel-ing of fear, fear for his life. And he knew how it felt, that day in June he had also felt it.  
In his dreams, he felt like crashing over and over.  
 _They were swirls of red and black wrapping themselves around bodies he couldn’t identify, but he knew he would miss dearly.  
They were the gruesome sounds, a high screeching, and crashing of stones as if a whole world had been shattered.  
They were the feeling of something sticky and wet running down his body.  
Was it even his body? In his dreams, he didn’t feel like himself, didn’t feel like only one body.  
One body couldn’t possibly hurt this much.  
The grip of hopelessness, with its long cold fingers, tightened around his throat. Breathing was hard these days, fighting seemed impossible._  
*  
“Phillipe, are you even listening?”, the stern voice of his mother ripped him out of his thoughts. He didn’t even need to look to guess his father was looking at him with a displeased expression. He always did.  
“No, I am sorry. I was lost in my thoughts.”, he didn’t even try to explain it to his parents. What would he say? Oh, since I got a riot stick to the head I dream weird shit and can’t sleep.  
Yeah, that wasn’t going to happen. He actually hadn’t planned to be here. There was nothing he loathed as much as spending Christmas with his parents, but his grandmother had begged him to come. And since she was the only one in his family he loved, he couldn’t say no to her. She had always called him her little rebel, and he had allowed it. She had taken part in student riots many years ago and he still admired her for it.  
But his grandmother would arrive tomorrow morning, so for tonight, he was left with the un-pleasant side of his family. Which included anybody else.  
“Louis, just told us, how well his law firm is doing.”, his mother said with a tight smile. Ah yes, the cousin with the law firm, that makes a hell lot of money. His family really was a cliché.  
“Ah, really? That’s amazing for him. How many wealthy men has he defended this year, knowing that they screwed over their employees?”, Enjolras just couldn’t leave out the snide remark. His head was throbbing and he felt restless. Both were also a constant nuisance since June.  
“Enough to not care, about what you say, Philly.”, the older man said with an annoying smirk. “How is wasting your father’s money studying for a worthless degree going?”  
Of course.  
“I am almost done with my thesis.”, he didn’t want to give the other man more.  
“Ah, what is it about? Saving ruining our political system with your socialist bullshit? Or do you want to end poverty? Save it, some people just don’t deserve better.”  
Enjolras knew, Louis just wanted to rile him up. He knew that cousin was doing this on purpose. And Enjolras was used to such remarks, damn he had been friends with Grantaire for a long time. But where Grantaire, at least kept it impersonal, Louis really believed that poverty was self-inflicted and he despised Enjolras for wanting to lessen his privilege. And when he said so all the rest of the family, save for Enjolras, nodded.  
“See, son. He at least does something useful, with his life.”  
Enjolras snorted. Yes, useful. For himself, making himself richer and richer, by using his talent to ruin the lives of people in court. Most of the time his clients were the guilty ones. But in the end, he was the better lawyer.  
He knew he was in to fight a war, long lost, but the restlessness got stronger and stronger and his vision blurred again. Without really thinking about his words, he started to speak.  
Never had it felt so natural, the way the words just poured out of him. Of course, he knew how to hold a speech, how to make people listen to him. But these words didn’t feel like his own, they somehow felt more powerful.  
He didn’t notice anything around him. Were his eyes open? Were they closed? He couldn’t tell. The swirls of red and black came back, he heard the distant sound of rain on the pavement. Why did it smell like gunpowder? Who were those people muttering around him?  
 _“Nobody would ever stand with you!”_  
Darkness embraced him.  
*  
 _He felt restlessness. Hope. This would work, they could change something, their world was going to be a better place. And with some luck, they would live to see it.  
“Long live France! Long live the future!”  
A distant gunshot.  
There really was rain falling, where he was standing and people were bowed over a girl. When he got closer, he couldn’t see a face. All he saw was blood, a red swirl on her body.  
He heard gunshots, so close, but he couldn’t see anything. He heard more crying, shouting the fear of all those figures around him was almost palpable.  
The sky was clear, the stars were visible.  
He was going to die.  
They were all dead.  
Loss is eating you up alive.  
He felt like a black hole. Like parts of him had been ripped out. He couldn’t believe they had lost. They had gotten once chance, but nobody stood with him.  
One more chance, to make it right.  
Was there a way to make it right?  
He hadn’t even been able to convince everyone in his own lines.  
“Shoot me!”, his own voice roared.  
Let this be over.  
Let others take the stage and try again._  
*  
When he woke up, he was alone in the darkness of the room. Or no, he wasn’t alone. A familiar friendly face looked at him with concern as soon as he had opened his eyes.  
“Maria?”, he croaked, his voice barely audible. His parent's old maid, of course, she wouldn’t get Christmas free, despite her having a big family. She didn’t even have much to do, everything was usually prepared. Her parents just “liked to have her around, just for the case”. Which meant she had to hide out of sight the whole day and was only allowed to appear if something happened. Nothing has ever happened before.  
“Enjolras.”, she looked at him with concern in her voice. The wrinkles on her face were deep, deeper than last year. She looked old like she had seen anything that had ever happened. She seemed like she was immortal, a constant good soul. God knows the world could need it.  
“You fainted during dinner. What happened to you?”, she handed him a glass of water and he drank it in one go. Then he sat up, leaning against the headboard. His head was still throbbing and he felt his curls plastered to his forehead.  
“I haven’t slept well in a while and I guess tonight was just too much.”, he tried to keep it short. No way could he tell her everything. But Marie knew him, had known since his birth, she could see he was lying.  
“None of this my boy, tell me what it is.”, she sat down next to him on the bed.  
“I… A protest went wrong and since then I can’t sleep. I have dreams, weird dreams. They feel familiar, without being precise. It’s like I felt all of this before.”, he broke off. But she only looked at him with a concerned expression.  
“That’s not all.”, she decided and Enjolras sighed. Because no, it wasn’t there was this thought. A thought, that had been at the back of his mind. He hadn’t even allowed himself to think the words, but now he had to speak them.  
“What if they are right. If we can’t make a difference?”

Never in his life had he let anybody tell him this. When he had been a teenager his father had said those words all the time, had spoken of how Enjolras was wasting his time. When he had gotten older, Grantaire had been there to question his plans.  
But now for the first time in his life doubt had taken hold of his heart.  
“Don’t think that. Please, don’t. You know, why I still work here? Because I want to be here whenever you come back. I want to see the day, you can show all of them, how you change the world. And I will be here. I will stand by your side.”  
Then she hugged him and Enjolras had never in his life felt this loved within the walls of this house.  
*  
Marie left and Enjorlas was alone again with his thoughts. He looked out the window and the win-ter sky was clear, he could see the stars.  
It didn’t take long for his restlessness to come back. He wanted to get away from here, but he didn’t have a car. But…  
He almost ran over to his bedside table, where his phone was charging.  
Grantaire had a car and he was, as far as Enjolras recalled, spending Christmas alone. Courfeyrac, Jehan, and Èponine had tried to convince them to celebrate with their families or friends but he had rejected them. “I really don’t feel like celebrating at the moment, I am sorry.”  
For a crazy moment, Enjolras wondered if maybe Grantaire had similar dreams.  
 **To R:  
I know you probably have something better to do, but my parents are driving me cra-zy.**  
It didn’t take five minutes for an answer to come back.  
 **From R:**  
I’ll come get you. Be there in 30.  
*  
They had done this a few times over the summer. When Enjolras had to spend time at the house because it was closer to his internship than his flat. He wasn’t sure when it had started, but one time Grantaire had pulled up with his old car and had mumbled something along the lines: “I can’t let you die of boredom, Apollo.”  
And so over the summer, they had grown closer. While their arguments still remained intense and they shouted at each other often enough, Grantaire somehow calmed him.  
He made his restlessness fade into the background and his headache bearable.  
*  
True to his word Grantaire was there 30 minutes later, Enjolras stepped out of the door, when he saw him and hurried to the car. The cold was terrible and it had started snowing again.  
It was snowing, not raining.  
“Hey.”, Grantaires voice was soft and he looked tired. Enjolras was sure he had already been asleep.  
“Hi.”, he gave back, sinking into the passenger seat and fastening the seatbelt.  
“I will kindly not mention how you look like shit. At least for now. Where to?”  
It was a thing they had started back in the summer, Enjolras had given him any destination and Grantaire had driven him there, let Enjorlas rant until he felt better.  
But today, he didn’t feel like going anywhere.  
“Just drive, I don’t care.” He wanted to get lost in the darkness.  
“Just driving around it is.”  
And they drove. The silence was soothing, but Enjolras did his best to stay awake. The dreams had gotten clearer and now he didn’t want to know what he would see the next time. Dying like this, was terrifying. Of course, he had thought about what would he give up for his cause, but this feeling. He didn’t want to die feeling this hopeless.  
They drove for what felt like hours, Enjorlas wasn’t even sure where they were when Grantaire pulled over and stopped the car.  
“And now you tell me, what’s up.”, he demanded. He looked tired, with his stubble and the bags under his eyes.  
“Nothing.”, and well even Enjolras could tell that his voice wasn’t convincing.  
“Oh come on, don’t lie to me this badly. You know that you can trust me. I am worried, since June you haven’t been yourself… I know the protest was shit, but there has to be more.”  
Enjolras refused to meet his eyes, he looked through the windshield, stared into the darkness.  
“Please, talk to me.”, Grantaire took his hand and just like that Enjolras couldn’t keep up the si-lence.  
He talked, about the dreams, about the feeling of loss in his bones, about the fear of failing.  
“What if one day, you are right and everything I have ever done… Will have been pointless. What if I try and fail again? I failed once, I hurt people… I feel like I have failed before, I feel like I have already killed you and I can’t do this again!”, he shouted the last part falling forward. There was nothing left, he had said everything. He felt empty.  
“R, I can’t do it anymore.”  
He felt Grantaire’s arms around him, felt his hands on his back.  
“Do you really think I don’t believe? I am a skeptic, I’ll admit it, but that’s because I don’t want you to run into battle without giving things a second thought. I can’t let you be naïve because if you are naïve I could lose you.”  
He pressed a chaste kiss to Enjolras forehead. It felt right.  
“And I once again have to disagree with you. You can do this because you have the ability to change something. I believe in you.”  
Enjolras couldn’t bring himself to let go of Grantaire.  
“You don’t.”, he mumbled and it was almost lost in the other man’s jacket.  
“I do. And believe me, if it all goes down I will stand with you. I won’t leave you alone.”  
Enjolras couldn’t do more than to tighten his grip on Grantaire and whisper a “Thank you.” Be-fore his exhaustion once more took over.  
 _“I belong to it!”_  
Enjolras knew this voice. He still couldn’t see, but for once he knew the voice.  
“Will you permit it?”  
Enjolras took his hand and squeezed it.  
Let other’s take the stage, may they live in a better tomorrow.

When Enjolras woke again, he took Grantaire’s hand and he finally understood.


End file.
